


The Conversation Series

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I think everyone could have used a bit more conversation.  What do you think?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Sided Conversation

One Sided Conversation

By Gena 

 

About two hours into it, conversation had dwindled to a few caustic comments, the occasional oath, and Rafe’s seemingly endless mumble to himself. Ranged around a conference table were five Cascade police department detectives and their captain, each hunched over a mount of files in a manner which would have reminded the casual observer of beasts of prey over fresh carcasses. Their cheery demeanor and sense of camaraderie trampled under the sheer weight of the task, each had given up pretense and immersed themselves in their own little world. Only Jim Ellison even bothered to look up when Rhonda tapped the window. She gave the international signal for telephone, something which made Jim start because it was so close to sign language for "I love you" and pointed to him.

"Ellison," he barked into the phone, busy rummaging through a stack of papers. "Hey, Chief." He didn’t see the flurry of smiles race around the others detective’s faces. "What’s wrong? No, you just sound congested." 

Taggart shot a sidelong glance at Banks. Brown kicked Rafe’s ankle and he nudged Connor’s elbow. Ellison continued to paw through his file oblivious to anything other than his partner’s voice.

"I told you it would rain, Sandburg," he muttered. "It always rains in Cascade. I don’t know why you insist on ignoring the weather reports. Oh, so I’m anal. Right. No, I don’t want to argue either." The only sound in the room was that of files being passed around. Banks used the opportunity to raise an eyebrow at Joel, then both grinned. Though everyone enjoyed Ellison’s conversations with Sandburg these two in particular, having know Jim since before his association with the grad student began, got a kick out of his relationship with the younger man. "Where are you? That’s good. Now dry your hair before you catch pneumonia. 

Oh, check under the sink. Yeah, is that what you wanted? I wasn’t sure, it said curly hair so I figured it would work." 

Connor let her eye catch Rafe’s and both shook their heads in amused wonderment. Jim had no idea, when he was talking to Sandburg, just how domestic he sounded. "I saw it in the dirty clothes hamper. Okay, but you better return it. Last time you borrowed that sweater I had to track it down under your bed and I do not want to ever do that again! Don’t go there, Chief, you won’t win." Jim shuffled a few more pages before closing the file and pulling out a new one. "Probably in my dresser. Are you looking in the left hand drawer? Sandburg, where do I keep sweaters? Left hand drawer, remember? Not that one. Because you roll up the sleeves, that’s why. You have to ask? Creases, Sandburg. It leaves creases. Oh, that’s funny."

Brown barely stifled his laugh, almost ending their fun when Jim flicked a glance in his direction. Luckily something in the file he was studying caught his attention again. "What do you mean, it’s yours? I did not! Oh, that one. If I remember correctly you loaned it to me. I was going to give it back. Must have slipped my mind. You will pay for that one, Sandburg. Now, listen, Chief," he said focusing on the conversation, "keep warm and drink some tea. I’ll be home pretty soon, we’re almost done." Skeptical looks darted between the table’s other occupants. "Want me to bring you something? Okay, just don’t go outside again. Yeah, I will." with a grin he hung up the phone, shaking his head.

The expectant silence finally got Ellison’s attention.

Remembering he wasn’t alone, Jim looked up. "What?" he growled. 

Five bemused faces were grinning at him. "Can’t a man have a private conversation with his friend?" The room broke out in laughter. "Well, you all can sit here and laugh," Ellison said airily, "I have better things to do." Carefully, he spread out the file he’d been perusing, pointing to several lines he’d marked. "Here’s the statement. If you people hadn’t been so busy yakking you might have found it." With a jaunty wave, Ellison grabbed his jacket and left. 

Stunned silence was the only reply as five pair of eyes stared at the elusive file.


	2. Conversation Among Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just what the title says.

Conversations Among Friends

sequel to One-sided Conversation

 

 

Four pair of eyes turned to look at Simon Banks. He looked back at them with mild amusement. "You heard the man," he drawled, "if we’d been paying attention we would have found that statement hours ago."

"Instead of having to listen to Ellison fuss over his partner," Brown chortled. 

"Yeah, you’d think he had nothing better to do that look after that kid," Rafe said with a grin.

"What a smuck," Megan teased. 

"Just be glad it’s not you," Simon reminded them. "Jim coddles that kid. How would you like having to rearrange your whole life to accommodate someone else."

"Someone who is constantly there," Joel added. "It must be hard on Jim to have Blair underfoot all the time, worrying about him, taking care of him." Taggart frowned, cocking his head to the side when confronted with the enormity of it all.

"I wouldn’t like it," Rafe informed them. "I mean Jim comes home after a hard day to what? mess and Sandburg."

"But he cooks," Joel reminded them. "He is one fantastic cook." 

Murmurs of agreement met that statement. They’d all sampled Sandburg’s cooking and come away wanting more of it.

"You know," Brown said quietly, "he’s good to talk to when you have a problem too." Nodding heads greeted his words. "He knows just what to say when you’re down."

"Jim hates to talk," Simon said, "it must drive him crazy having to put up with Sandburg’s endless lectures." He shook his head, adding, "poor Jim." He fell silent, images of Blair quietly talking to his partner springing to mind. No one but him knew how Jim relied on Blair’s voice, his presence to anchor him. 

"Of course," Megan said softly, "Blair’s really good with Jim’s temper." Everyone mumbled agreement with that. "He seems so attuned to Jim…..I bet that’s nice."

"Yeah, but still," Rafe said, "would you want someone in your face all the time. Even if they could cook great and understood your problems. Come on, guys. It would be hell to have one person so intimate to your personality, your moods, your needs......" He trailed off, a wistful look in his eyes.

Megan stared off into space, wondering what it would feel like to have someone that close. Joel sighed, missing his late wife for the millionth time. Simon drummed his fingers on the table, remembering Joan’s smile in the morning. Rafe shared a disappinted glance with Henri, both well aware they’d never even come close to that kind of commitment.

"Who’d want that," Simon whispered. 

"Not me," Rafe and Brown said quietly.

"Not me," Joel echoed but his heart wasn’t in it.

"Not me," Megan lied to herself.

"Me neither." Simon closed the file and rose from his chair. 

"I’m heading home." He knew an empty apartment waited, one which had no one in it to take care of, no one counting on him, waiting to welcome him home.

"Home," Joel said, forcing a light tone. His cramped apartment held only memories.

"Big night," Rafe smirked, praying no one saw him head out with the laundry basket.

"Me, too," Henri said. There was a Jackie Chan festival running on TNT he wanted to catch.

"Aren’t we lucky?" Megan asked with s strained smile. "I for one wouldn’t want to come home to some poor soul who wasn’t feeling well. No, my days of being needed like that are over. I’m my own person and I do what I want all alone." 

The word echoed hollowly, bouncing off the walls and slapping each person their in the face. Alone. All alone. No one waiting, no one who needed them, no one who listened when they spoke, laughed when they joked, cried when they hurt. Not like poor Jim Ellison……..lucky bastard that he was.


	3. Lofty Conversations

Lofty Conversations

By Gena 

Third in the Conversations series

 

 

"Chief?" Jim Ellison opened the loft door, tossed his keys towards the basket meant to catch them, and didn’t even stop when he heard them hit the table instead. He’d already pinpointed his roommate’s location, the couch, by Blair’s heartbeat, and his own sped up when he heard the hacking cough. "You didn’t go back out, did you?" he asked suspiciously. 

"No, man," came a hoarse reply muffled by several blankets. 

Jim juggled the bag he carried to his left hand, cross the living room, and peeled back a few layers of wool to expose his friend’s huddled form. He’d never admit to anyone, but Jim found the sight of his young partner, sleepy and rumpled, to be one of the five most irresistible sights in the known world….okay, one of the top three. 

Large, blue eyes, made almost purple by the amount of red surrounding them, peered up at him. Jim knew 80% of it was calculated to get to him, but he couldn’t resist. "Ah, Chief," he murmured. Blair had on Jim’s favorite green sweater, a pair of his old sweat pants and more than likely his socks judging by the lack of toes peeking out from holes. 

"Sit up, Blair," he coaxed, "I brought you something." Plunking a pillow down behind the other man, Jim sat on the coffee table and dug into the bag he’d brought.

"What is it?" Blair watched as Jim removed a Styrofoam container, popped the lid and handed it over.

"Careful," Jim warned, "it’s hot." 

"Oh, man, this is perfect!" Blair took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid. "Mmm, chicken noodle soup." Bliss suffusing his every cell, Sandburg gazed up at his partner. "You’re a god among men, Jim, a god."

"Glad you feel that way, Chief," Jim said with a chuckle, "’cause I’ve got a few commandments."

"Oh, man," Blair frowned, "I’m sick here, Jim. You gotta give me a break." He employed the "little me" look, the one the patent office had recently approved for use on James Ellison. Unfortunately for Sandburg his partner had invested in the "for his own good" shield and withstood the assault with only minor discomfort.

"Blair," he warned. Sandburg quickly immersed himself in the task of slurping soup. "You’re going to stay right here," he patted the cushions, "eat your soup and drink plenty of liquids. Then you’ll take some aspirin and rest. Got it?"

"Yes, Bawana." Sandburg offered a sweet smirk and continued with his soup while Jim rose and headed for the kitchen. "What were you guys doing when I called?"

"Hm? Uh, just looking for Lindley’s statement," Jim said. Blair watched him hunt down the aspirin, fill a glass with juice and come back with it. "You know I almost got the feeling they were….amused or something." Ellison shook his head, clearly bewildered.

"Who? Lindley’s lawyers?" Blair finished his soup, permitted Jim’s hand to his forehead with resignation, and faithfully swallowed the white pills dropped into his palm.

"No," Ellison took back the glass, pressed Blair down against the pillow and covered him. "Simon and Joel and the others," he shrugged. "You called and, I don’t know, they thought it was weird or something."

"They were all right there when we were talking?" Blair shivered, wishing he had another blanket to ward off the chill which had laid claim to his bones, and sighed when Jim tugged the afghan down over him. "Maybe we sound like an old married couple," he guessed, peeking up at Jim with one eye. 

"Why the hell would we sound like that?" Jim smoothed the blankets into place, careful to leave a space for Blair to reach out and drink the glass of orange juice on the coffee table, and grinned. 

"We’re just two guys, Chief. We still throw underwear on the floor and belch like seals."

"Don’t forget we also fart like elephants," Blair murmured drowsily. 

"Yeah," Jim agreed, "right after our Consciousness Awareness class." 

Jim allowed himself a sigh, he no idea how other people viewed his relationship with Sandburg. smoothing back a damp lock of hair, he picked up the soup bowl. All he knew was when he looked at Sandburg he saw his entire world. They were two guys, living in the same place, working together, enjoying each other’s company. Sure, Blair helped him with his whacked out senses, but that didn’t affect their friendship. Nope, him and Sandburg were just like everybody else.


	4. Conversations With My Mother-in-law

Conversations with my Mother-in-law

(Conversations Part 4)

By Gena 

 

Blair heard them coming even before they got to the door. He scrambled from the couch, dropping books and scattering papers and met them just as Simon knocked. "Jim! What’s wrong?" His partner hung on Simon Banks’ shoulder like a bad suit, he even looked soiled and in need of a pressing.

"Just - just let me - sit down," Jim begged. Simon, huffing under the weight made to drag his detective further into the apartment. Blair hurried to lend his own support, propping Jim up as they stumbled towards the couch. A few papers were trampled but with a grateful moan Jim was finally lowered onto the cushions. Blair knelt beside him, frantic with worry. Lines of pain criss-crossed Jim’s brow, sweat dripped down his pale features and he’d seemed to moan with each step they took.

"Jim?" Blair asked, but his partner curled onto his side, legs drawn up tight and large hands cradling the bulge between his legs like a man protecting something precious after a failed attempt to relieve him of it. "Simon?" Voice raising an octave, Sandburg could only watch in horror as his partner and best friend did his best not to cry. "What in god’s name is wrong!?"

"Blair," Simon put a comforting hand on Sandburg’s shoulder. "Jim arrested Adrian Olberding today." Blair’s puzzled look prompted Banks to explain. "The one we suspected of poisoning her roommate."

"Oh, yeah," Blair nodded. Jim had been working on the case alone while Sandburg finished end of semester grading.

"She slipped away from the arresting officers but Jim tracked her to a shed in a neighbor’s yard." Jim reached out and clutched his partner’s hand before Simon could finish.

"Don’t laugh, Chief," he pleaded. Blair stared at him in disbelief. How could his partner think he would find anything which had left Jim in such obvious pain humorous? 

"Jim didn’t detect a weapon so he swung open the door, gun in hand," Banks paused, bottom lips held between his teeth as he sucked in a deep breath. "She had a baseball bat. Needless to say, Jim’s gun went flying…….." Banks lost it, hiding his face with one hand until he could continue. "He tackled her and in the struggle………," Simon fought to get the words out, "she hit an infield fly…..straight to Jim’s fly! She whacked a ……home run!"

Blair fought to control his own involuntary smile, Jim looked far too pale for levity right now. "Okay, I get it," he said, "but look, Simon, Jim could have some real damage here."

"I - am not- going," Jim groaned, rolling onto his back but still holding his crotch, "to let some - doctor handle my dick."

"Okay, I will," Blair declared, a statement he’d never thought he would utter to Jim’s face. "Simon, help me get him into my room." With a lot of cussing and swearing and sweating, the three men made it to the small room under the stairs. Jim’s face had drained of blood several times but he’d managed to walk without his hands between his legs - a vast improvement over his entrance into the loft. "Now, relax," Blair commanded and slowly reached for his partner’s zipper. 

"I think I better leave," Simon commented from the doorway. "This is a moment I really don’t think I want stuck in my memory. Besides," he added solemnly, "I think you two will want to remember your first time without me here."

"Ha-ha," Jim wheezed. Blair shifted Jim’s hands away again, and lowered the front of his slacks. Great, Jim had worn the silk boxers today. They felt erotic against Blair’s skin, so cool and chilly, a startling contrast to the warmth of Jim’s smooth skin. Tentatively Blair grasped the lax organ. "Chief!" Ellison’s shout resulted in Blair dropping the dangling bits of flesh and this in turn brought another shout from Jim.

"Damit, Jim!" Blair bellowed. 

"Could you put on mittens or something? Your hands are like ice!" Ellison gasped, his own again shielding his privates.

"They do not show this kind of stuff on the Playboy channel," Simon muttered from the doorway.

"I thought you were leaving," Blair snapped. He focused on his partner, swatting Jim’s hands away then bending close to examine the abused flesh. Livid bruises made it quite spectacular to behold. "Uh, Jim, are you glad to see me or are you a bit swollen?"

Ellison pried open one eye, glanced down at himself then at his partner. "Well, I’m not sure, Chief. Could you strip yourself naked and prance around the room for a minute, see if things change?"

"I did not strip you naked!" Blair pointed out.

"No you just plop me down here and leave Jim Jr. flapping in the breeze."

"Flapping is right," Blair murmured under his breath.

"I heard that."

"Jim," Blair sat down beside his partner. "I’m just worried, okay? You could have ruptured something. This isn’t an injury to ignore."

"I couldn’t ignore this if I wanted to, Chief," Jim said softly. He reached out and stroked a hand down Sandburg’s arm. "Get on with it, okay?" Blair nodded, and gently probed the bruised and battered flesh on display. Satisfied that nothing had been permanently damaged, he tucked Jim back into his boxers. 

"How’s the pain?" He’d noticed Jim slowing his breathing, and seen the color come back to his cheeks.

"Better," Jim acknowledged. "It was unbearable at first. Guess my dials just went out the door there for awhile." He smiled sleepily, the adrenaline rush wearing off along with the pain and leaving him exhausted. "Pain always goes away when you’re with me." His hand found Blair’s, wrapping around it even as his eyes drifted shut.

"He is okay, isn’t he?" Banks asked.

"Yeah," Blair ran his free hand over Jim’s forehead, "he’s okay now." Six feet of pure muscle, ten yards of temper and one hundred percent sentinel, Jim Ellison still managed to be the most vulnerable man Blair knew. He gave the impression of invincibility but anyone who knew him, knew he needed someone to take care of him. Blair smiled down at his friend, glad to be able to do this for him. "Simon, could you get me the peas out of the freezer…."

"……outta peas," Jim mumbled, "I got corn."

"What the hell are you two talking about." When Blair glanced at him, Simon wore a confused frown.

"Just bring whatever frozen vegetable you find in the freezer and the towel off the counter," he instructed. Simon returned carrying a bag of frozen corn and a tea towel. His confused frown gave way to a look of bemused disgust as Blair took both, wrapped the towel around the bag and nestled it between Jim’s legs. Blair gave him a rueful grin, "remind me not to tell you what we’d done with that broccoli you ate last week." Working slowly he undressed Ellison and pulled the blankets up to his chin. "Poor guy," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Jim’s cheek. "No nookie for you for a while." When he turned around, Simon’s frown had come back but this time Blair thought he saw a little speculation mixed in with confusion. He let it simmer.

Blair showed his friend out, laughing softly at what Simon must be thinking. He was tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. He checked on Jim one last time, making sure the frozen corn wasn’t touching skin, then covering him up and turned off the light. Blair cast around the loft, eyes settling on the upstairs bedroom, "well, guess I get the king size tonight!" He trotted up the stairs, stripping clothes as he went, falling onto the wide mattress with a weary sigh and sinking instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep. He slept so deeply that only the sound of a car horn in the street below woke him. Sunlight shown in through the windows and when his bleary eyes made out the numbers on the alarm clock, Blair felt his heart skip several beats.

"Shit!" he yelped, staggering from the tangle of bedclothes, and stumbling down the stairs. He peeked into his room, saw Jim was still asleep and tiptoed inside. Blair scooped an armful of clothes from the chair, hoping at least part of it was something he could wear and headed for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he was out the door and on the way to class. He missed the taxi pulling up in front of 852 Prospect by three minutes.

* * *

Naomi Sandburg fished out the spare key Jim had reluctantly given her and slipped it into the lock. She so wanted to surprise Blair, it was less than a week ‘til his birthday and she had a present he would adore. Moving carefully through the quiet apartment, just in case Jim was still asleep she peered into her son’s room. Sunlight filtered in through the window from the living room and she could make out a shape huddled beneath the blankets. "He’s so cute when he sleeps," she whispered to her self and moved closer. Something crunched underfoot and a moment later Naomi was puzzling over the fact her son had kernels of corn, some still frozen others squishy, scattered across the floor.

A moment after that, she wondered why her son had his mostly naked roommate scattered across his bed. It was definitely Jim Ellison lying boneless on the narrow mattress. She took a moment to enjoy the play of muscles over his ribs, the way his boxers clung to………was that a plastic bag ripped open and draped across his splayed thighs? Well, as least she knew where the corn had come from. Naomi backed from the room, careful of the mess on the floor and did what she always did when confronted with the unexpected. She meditated.

Two hours later she head a muffled groan, a stifled curse, a disgusted yelp and Jim Ellison emerged from the bedroom. He had a respectable case of "bed head", and the black boxers lent him a sexy air despite the mashed corn clinging to his calves and flaking off in his wake. However, he moved like a geriatric grandmother wearing house slippers and using a walker - the kind without the tennis balls. Someone had obviously had a rough night.

"Hi, Jim," she chirped. Naomi had learned many things about her son’s best friend; Jim was loyal and true, his possessive instincts towards Blair were highly developed, he liked blue, he had a soft spot for kids, and he hated people who were cruel to animals. She added a new quality to her mental list - #7 Never chirp at Jim after a night of kinky sex with Blair. "I’m sorry, sweetie," she apologized, helping Jim up off the table. 

"Naomi," Jim wiped a hand across his face and peered at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Just dropping off Blair’s birthday present." She glanced at the back at her son’s room, "where is he, anyway?"

"Class?" Jim eased himself into a chair, shifting as bruised flesh came in contact with unyielding wood. "I suppose he told you what happened." Ellison’s face flushed red, his gaze dropping to the surface of the table.

"Oh, sweetie," Naomi took pity on her new son-in-law and merely smiled.

"It was so stupid," Jim explained. "I should have seen it coming, but it happened so fast."

"It’s usually like that," Naomi agreed.

"We’ll it’s not so bad, the pain was really awful at first but now it’s just a dull ache." Ellison sighed, clearly relieved.

Naomi felt her own face begin to heat. She and Blair made it a point not to go into detail about their love lives to each other - there was such a thing as too much information. "I’m sure Blair didn’t mean to hurt you."

"No, he didn’t!" Jim hurried to assure Naomi. "He was really careful. Mittens would have been nice, but too clumsy I guess."

"Mittens?" Naomi regarded Ellison with quizzical eyes, in the sexy sixties they’d been called hand puppets or love gloves - "some times you just need that personal contact."

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "Simon laughed about that too."

"Simon was here?" Maybe Blair had been old enough to understand some of her stories after all. "Did he……help?"

"No, not with that. He just got me to the bed and then stood there watching," Jim said. "He is my captain, you know. I think it would have been uncomfortable for him later." 

"I sure it would have." Brushing aside a damp lock of hair, Naomi made a show of looking at her watch. "Oh, my, look at the time. I have to go, Jim."

"But what about Blair’s present?" 

"I’ll just leave it," Naomi assured him. She took a step towards the door, then turned back, curiosity getting the better of her. "Jim, about the corn……?"

Ellison blushed. "Blair used it for the swelling," he mumbled. "The sack must of broken during the night. Waking up with corn suck up your………"

"Jim," Naomi stopped him with a hand to his lips. "Whatever you and Blair do is fine. Just take care of him and let him take care of you."

"He does. We do," Jim said. "He’s a take charge kind of guy. He knew exactly what to do, had me on the bed and went to work like a pro."

"That’s nice, Jim," Naomi smiled. "I’m just glad you’re okay. I know you said you were sore but……," she shrugged.

"But next time I’ll know what to expect," he said with a rueful grin. "Thanks for coming by, Naomi. I really didn’t want Blair telling anyone - it’s kind of embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? You mean Blair…..taking control? Directing matters, so to speak?" She gave her son-in-law an appraising look. She’d known dozens of big, tough guys like Jim who wanted to be on the bottom. It didn’t make them any less masculine.

"No, the baseball bat," Jim answered. "Next time I’ll be ready." He kissed her cheek, shuffling beside her to the door. "I’ll tell Blair you were here." He shut the door before she had a chance to even ask. Naomi shook herself. Baseball bat? Walking away, she decided there were some things a mother-in-law just didn’t need to know.


	5. Crossed Conversations

Crossed Conversations

by Gena

"Where to, lady?" The cab driver caught his passenger’s eye and smiled. She was a real looker - short red hair and delicate features and with a twinkle in her eye that bespoke a nice tip.

"Airport," she responded then, just as he was pulling away from the curb, she laid a hand on his shoulder, "no, Cascade Police department." She nodded once when he again met her reflected gaze, assuring him or herself this was the right decision? He wasn’t sure but made the next right off Prospect and headed for her destination.

Naomi Sandburg concentrated on her breathing, slowing it down and finding her center. She knew it was wrong to interfere, but…….frozen corn and baseball bats! These boys didn’t have a clue and if she didn’t set them straight……so to speak, then someone might get hurt. She’d known almost from the beginning her son had fallen hard for his cop roommate, and known almost equally long that Jim adored her son. She’d had her own share of unusual sex but she was determined to make them see passed the superficial lust to the depth of their feelings. "It’s for their own good," Naomi said to the cabbie when he pulled to a stop before the station.

"I’m sure it is, lady," he winked, took the sizable tip and pulled away, wondering just what the hell was going on.

Naomi wondered the same thing. Stepping off the elevator and into Major Crime, she paused, took a deep breath and headed for Simon Banks’ office. 

"Ms. Sandburg," Megan Connor called from her desk. "What are you doing here?" She smiled and waved Naomi over. "I thought you were in Cairo or Bengal or…..someplace."

"I was," Naomi breezed, "I just stopped by on my way to Kyoto."

"Jim and Blair aren’t……."

"I just came from there," Naomi confided in a quiet voice.

"How’s Jim doing?" Megan asked.

"You know?" Naomi regarded the Australian detective with round eyes. She knew her son and Jim considered their fellow detectives friends, she just hadn’t been aware of how close they all were.

"Everybody knows," Megan confided with a shrug. "It’s been the topic on everyone’s tongue since it happened yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Naomi asked. "You mean they’ve only been lovers since yesterday?"

"Lovers? Who?" Megan frowned, sensing somehow that she had lost all reference to their conversational objective.

"Jim and Blair."

"Jim and Blair!?" Megan hissed, lowering her voice when the entire squad glanced at her. "Jim and Blair are lovers?" 

"I thought you said you knew," Naomi reminded her. "I know they’re new at it but they should be more careful. To be honest Jim was still pretty sore when I saw him this morning." 

Megan stared unblinking, eyes taking on a glazed look. She opened her mouth but nothing came out save a gasping sound.

"Mom!" 

Naomi whirled, "Blair!" Her son was hustling through the bullpen, a grin spread ear to ear on his face.

"Sandy!" Megan greeted him a look he couldn’t quite decipher, then proceeded to blush and stammer, "con-congratulations."

"Mom," Blair took his mother’s hand, "what are you doing here? I was going to call but Jim wasn’t feeling……"

"I know, sweetie," she interrupted, "I stopped by and talked to Jim. He told me everything, honey. That’s why I wanted to see you."

"Everything?" Blair’s wide blue eyes got even wider. Jim sharing this little mishap with his mother? The big guy was opening up - TO HIS MOTHER!!! Visions of Jim and Naomi up on his big comfortable bed, returned. What if his partner had not only told Naomi about his injury but shown it to her!? No, no, Jim wouldn’t do that. He could trust Jim, right? 

But Jim was attracted to Naomi……..Damn! "What did he say, mom?" Blair asked, careful to keep his voice calm and reasonable. 

"Sweetie," Naomi, chided, "I think this should be a private conversation."

"They all know," Blair explained dejectedly, indicating the other detectives, the civilian aids, the janitor, several criminals, Simon, and a reporter standing near Megan’s desk. Naomi smiled - when her son came out - he really came out.

"Ms. Sandburg!" Simon’s booming voice echoed from his office. "How are you?"

"Simon…..Captain Banks’", Naomi’s eyes sparkled at the big man. "I just stopped by to speak to Blair about Jim……"

"Yeah, poor guy," Banks’ said, "I think he’s a little embarrassed." 

"Nonsense," Naomi declared. "I told him there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of! We all knew this would happen, I mean I saw it the first time I met him."

"I for one had no idea," Megan piped in. "I mean, sure he growled at me for calling Sandy "Chief" and maybe being a little too friendly but……." 

"Ellison just rushes in sometimes," Banks said, shaking his head. 

"I’ve told him time after time, you’ve got to be prepared for anything. You know," Simon leaned close to confide, "Jim has a real reputation around here for this kind of thing. I’ve suggested Velcro straps but Jim gets really offended."

Naomi frowned, Velcro straps? Maybe her first instinct had been right. It was time to leave and let Nature run its course.

Megan, still slightly red, eyed Blair, "I’m happy for you, Blair, really."

"What?" Sandburg frowned, glancing sidelong at Connor. "Megan, what are you………"

"Are you staying, Naomi?" Simon asked, cutting off Blair’s question.

"Oh, no, I have to get going. That reminds me, honey," she told Blair, "I left your birthday present on the table. Jim said he’d make sure you got it. Oh, and sweetie, next time don’t use a bag of frozen corn like that, you’ll never get it out of the sheets. I’m surprised Jim didn’t get frostbite. And if Jim wants you to, I think you should wear a……mitten."

Megan began to cough uncontrollably, face a fiery red. Naomi patted her son’s cheek and stage whispered, "I know you’re new at this but - it’s suppose to swell." With a wave and a smile, she flounced out in a swirl of colour.

"Frozen corn?" Megan gasped aloud. 

"It’s suppose to swell?" Blair shook his head and turned to look at Simon. 

"Hey, it didn’t look right to me," Banks replied.

Connor’s watering eyes shifted between Banks and Sandburg, totally confused but unwilling to let them know her sexual expertise didn’t include frozen vegetables and winter wear. "You know, Sandy, you’re mother is too cool. She’s so happy for you and Jim," she leaned close and hugged Blair hard, "and so am I." With her own quick peck to his cheek Megan left Blair standing, looking after her in confusion.

"Happy for us?" Blair scratched his head. "Happy for us? They all act like…….." he trailed off, sudden understanding dawning in his brain. "Oh, my god! They think……."

"They think what?" Banks demanded, but it was too late, he was left alone in the middle of the bullpen as a Sandburg blur hit the elevator and was gone. Simon made his way back to his office, pondering the events he’d just witnessed. If he didn’t know better he would have thought Naomi was implying……nah, Jim and Sandburg? He fished out a cigar, lighting it thoughtfully. Jim and Sandburg, hmmmm? Of course, those two were extremely close, closer than anybody he knew. Blair had seemed pretty sure of himself last night when he’d…..ministered to Jim’s injury. And Jim didn’t seem at all bothered by what Blair was doing. Simon puffed his cigar. 

And yet - a mother would know, wouldn’t she?


	6. No Need For Conversation

No Need for Conversation  
by Gena

 

Jim Ellison rose from the couch, strode to the bathroom with manly grace and climbed quickly into the shower. At least he did in his vivid imagination. In real life, the kind without soundtracks, close-ups and stunt doubles, he tumbled off the couch, landed on his hands and knees, crawled to the coffee table and levered himself to his feet with all the finesse of a rusty elevator and about the same sound. He then shambled towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of thawing sweet corn all the way , got to the tub and almost cried when he realized he would have to lift his foot a good ten inches to get in there. 

Using every trick his guide and best friend had ever taught him, Jim stuffed a towel into his mouth and screamed as his abused love-rod protested this action. A fleeing suspect had surprised him with a personal rendition of The Nutcracker Suite, using Jim’s very own nuts and a baseball bat. It hurt like hell. Even with his sense of touch dialed down to the you-could-make-me-touch-raw-liver-without-flinching setting, it hurt. He carefully lathered himself, not daring to look down at his maltreated manhood, haunted by an irrational fear. As a boy of 13 he and his best friend, Larry, had overheard the older boys talking in the locker room. Ears attuned to any kernel of wisdom these paragons of experience might impart, both boys had been appalled to learn that a friend of one of the guys knew this other guy who had gotten his dick slammed in a locker. Grisly details of how it had swollen, and turned black and then fallen off into the toilet had haunted Jim each and every time he forgot his cup that football season. Now, his own family jewels mangled, he couldn’t bring himself to chance the story’s validity. 

He hastily finished his shower, momentarily confused by the amount of corn swirling down the drain, patted himself dry while inspecting the ceiling for cobwebs, wrapped a towel around his waist and hobbled into the kitchen to fix himself a cool drink. It wasn’t until he reached into the freeze for an ice cube and noticed that the new bag of Farm Goodness Frozen Corn was no longer nestled close to the popcicles, that he put two and two together and got - BLAIR STUFFING THE BAG BETWEEN HIS LEGS AFTER GIVING JIM, JR. A THROUGH EXAM!! Wiping at the juice he’d sprayed on the counter, the refrigerator, and the wall, Jim vaguely recalled Blair’s mother talking to him. It seemed like a dream, but something she had said….or implied, was important. What the hell was it? Jim stood there and for the life of him couldn’t remember what it had been. He spied the package Naomi had left on the counter, frowning for a moment before remembering it was Blair’s birthday present. Maybe he was suppose to check out the present and make sure it was the right size or something. He pried off the top and went very still. It struck him like a thunderbolt from the blue, Naomi’s words rang in his head like a Hemingway bell, her knowing wink and smile were nails in his coffin! How could he have been so stupid? What had he been thinking? Was there still time to rectify this situation? Was that dust on the windowsill? Jim shook himself back to the here and now, took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He’d almost succeeded when the sound of a key in the door had his heart doing the Mambo #5 in double time. With every last ounce of strength, James Ellison slipped his face back into neutral and waited for the downhill run.

{}

Blair had made it to the top of the second floor landing before realizing he didn’t know what, exactly, he’d say when he came face to face with Mount Ellison. God, if he knew Naomi, and he most certainly did, she’d probably been up here haranguing his partner on treatment of her son. He could just see Jim, grimacing in pain, covered head to toe in squishy corn, gaping open mouthed as Naomi went off on him. A wave of dizziness stopped Blair with his foot on the step. Jim was going to kill him! Jim, tough, macho, ex-Army Ranger, and now people would think he was gay! Okay, so a few of their friends, the ones who’d seen Jim in his flower print apron, already thought that, but they were in the minority. Blair realized he had two options. He could go in there and just pretend nothing had happened. This plan ranked high with him since it would add dramatically to his life span. Only problem he could see was when they got to the station and were met with a "wedding shower", Jim might not take it too calmly. The only other option was to rush in and throw himself on the big guy’s mercy. He could explain how Naomi had gotten the whole "frozen corn and mitten" incident confused and come to the wrong conclusion. It could happen to anyone, right? 

Taking a deep breath, Blair calmed himself and headed for the loft apartment he shared with his partner. He found his friend, clad only in a towel, staring vacantly into space. Suspecting a zone-out, Blair moved quickly towards the still figure, but at the last moment, Jim turned and regarded him with solemn eyes. There was something in that gaze, some elusive quality Sandburg had never seen before, and it kept him silent. Jim, too, seemed reluctant to speak and destroy the spell between them. His expression shifted, softening until Blair felt a spark flare within his heart. A spark which had been kindled the night before when he had finally gotten the opportunity to handle Jim’s considerable assets, even though they had been half frozen at the time. 

His dreams that night had been filled with vivid scenes of his manly partner, dressed only in boxers emblazoned with the Jolly Green Giant®, riding in the annual Mayoral parade. He’d stood on the sidelines watching this majestic police detective tossing handfuls of corn to his eager public, and wanted nothing better than to climb aboard that float and go down on him faster than the Titanic. Could it be that Naomi had seen the truth, that Jim felt something for him too? Blair opened himself to his partner, projecting all the love he had for Jim in twin beams of blazing blue. Ellison’s own eyes widened, a flush crept up his cheeks but he didn’t break eye contact. 

Blair took a step forward, and came to a frowning halt when Jim took a step back. He took another step forward, checking to see if it had been a trick of the light or something but again, Ellison moved away. He saw panic flare in Jim’s gaze, his blue eyes flicked to a package sitting square on the counter. Before Ellison could react, Blair snatched the box and held it between them like a shield. Jim’s expression became fixed, mouth a grim line, as Blair shook the package experimentally. Nothing rattled or ticked. Why was Jim upset? Blair looked at the card, noting for the first time that it had been printed in Naomi’s flowing hand and not the precise script of his partner. So his mother had come by to drop off what must be his birthday present. Realization dawned on Blair - Jim had forgotten to by him a present. That must be the quilt crossing his features like Hannibal and his elephants, and just as subtle. Tossing the gift aside, Blair moved closer and wound both arms around his partner’s waist. Jim, Jr. welcomed him with open arms……

{}

Jim felt the heated rush of blood to his groin, a welcome change to the chill he’d begun to think would be with him the rest of his life. Blair fit against him as if made for just that spot. He inhaled the heady aroma of Sandburg, marveling at the way things were working out. If he knew Naomi, and he most certainly did - but not in the Biblical sense because Blair had come home a bit sooner than expected, she had blabbed to the whole station that he and Sandburg were……lovers. Jim, Jr. seconded that thought and he felt Blair press a bit closer. So everyone they would meet whenever they got back to CPD would assume they had been having sex. His first reaction, to deny the attraction, had withered and died in the gleam of Blair’s obvious affection. And when he’d picked up that gift! Jim took a calming breath and planted a kiss on Sandburg’s curls. If he knew what his mother had brought for him! Well, at least it was the right size. Jim sank into his partner’s embrace, offering his heart with open arms. Everyone at the station already believed he and Blair were madly in love, why try to fight the majority opinion?

If you’re going to have the name you might as well play the game. Jim dropped his hands to cup the firm bottom below his hands, then jumped when equally strong hands freed him of his towel. Daring a looking into Sandburg’s face, he was delighted to see hunger written across the expressive features, and not for frozen vegetables….well, at least not unless they were strategically placed. Blair stood on tiptoe, his lips landing squarely on Jim’s and a jolt of desire shot through them both. They kissed for a long time, each silently thankful for what had led them to this point. Naomi might have outted them before they even knew they were in, but only a soul deep love could have turned a baseball bat to the nuts, and a bag of frozen corn into sex on the linoleum. 

Later, curled together on the couch, snug in each others arms, Blair opened the second gift his mother had given him.

It contained - mittens. A whole box of them. With ridges!!!


End file.
